War Wounds
by CSI1983
Summary: John seeks out Helen for treatment - And to continue the battle of a lifetime


John slipped from the shadows and Helen jolted slightly in her seat.

"John, why must you always sneak up on me like that?"

John smiled slightly at her, moving forward, his face now in light. He was wearing his normal uniform, the black jacket, for reasons she didn't know, was covered in dust. She narrowed her eyes and examined him closer and for the first time noticed the blood.

"John"

He raised his eyebrow at her, waiting for her to speak. She ignored the silent invitation and moved forward, coming to stand in front of him. She raised her hand, the palm stopping inches from his face.

"Why is there blood on your neck?"

He said nothing, waiting for her next move. She sighed and finally her hand came to his cheek and he closed his eyes at the touch. His skin was surprisingly cool beneath the heat of her hand. His voice was jagged when he spoke.

"It is nothing"

She frowned at him and lowered her hand to his neck, the pulse heavy under her fingers. The blood was dry, it was nothing more then a streak but she was still concerned.

"John, what happened?"

He moved again, unbuttoning his jacket and allowing it to fall from his shoulders. He had a simple, short sleeved shirt underneath but his clothes were forgotten as Helen looked down. There was another blood trail twisting its way down his arm and ending at the tips of his fingers. Helen took to the buttons of the shirt and quickly pushed the cloth aside. His chest was littered with shallow wounds, stab wounds if Helen was to hazard a guess, each in various stages of healing.

"Bloody hell John. What happened?"

She grasped him by the upper arms and steered him to a seat, gently pushing him into it. He groaned softly as she pushed his shirt off all together. The paleness of his skin contrasted with the blood that still seeped from the wounds.

"I have many enemies Helen, you know that"

Helen huffed quietly and sat back on her heels.

"Tell me"

John shook his and smiled down at her.

"No need for details. If you could just treat me and I'll be on my way"

Helen stood and put her hands on her hips, giving him a hard look.

"No"

John raised his eyebrows.

"You would refuse a man in pain?"

"No. Just you. No details, no treatment"

She turned on her heel and returned to her desk, clearing her throat and getting back to her paperwork. Or at least pretending too. She examined him beneath her lowered eyes, watching as he stood, his face twisting slightly in pain, heading to the small cupboard, where she kept rarely drunk scotch. She watched as he poured himself a tall measure before turning back and taking his seat again. He drunk half the measure, leaning his head against the back of the chair with a sigh. It was killing her seeing him like this. She pretended to focus on the files in front of her, knowing that any information that he gave her was his choice. She knew that whatever bluff she put up, he would see through it. There was no use for a poker face when it came to John. He read her far too easily and she hated that it was reassuring and irritating all at the same time.

"I was searching for the stone of Asthene"

Helen's head popped up of it's own accord.

"What?"

"The stone of Asthene. I assume you are familiar with it?"

John's voice was teasing as he watched her face.

"Of course I am. It disappeared in the late 1940's."

"Exactly"

"So you decided to find it? What the hell bought that on?"

John frowned and sipped at his drink again, slower this time, enjoying the taste and the delicious burn.

"I required it"

"Why?"

"Think about it Helen. Why would a man like me need the stone of Asthene?"

Helen had seen the stone, just once, before it disappeared. She made the journey to Rome, purely to see it and ensure the it was contained correctly. The stone of Asthene was dangerous and powerful, which was why Helen had to make sure that it was in the right hands. It held the dual ability of attracting and releasing electrical currents. If John touched it, the elemental within him would be evacuated. But then again, no human would ever be able to touch the stone again without killing the poor soul behind the touch. Helen frowned at him.

"So who hurt you?"

John shifted again and Helen opened her mouth to protest as one of the stab wounds began to bleed in earnest.

"Another man that was also after the stone. He wasn't happy that he had competition, as friendly as it may have been."

"But you failed?"

"Yes. Plenty of leads but it was all rumour and hearsay. Nothing but a gathering of Chinese whispers and mouldy myths."

"I still don't understand"

John cocked his head. She wondered briefly how he could ignore the blood that was making a steady path down his stomach. She stayed in her seat. She wasn't sure why.

"What can't that brilliant mind of yours grasp about my story?"

"Why did he stab you?"

"I told you"

Helen narrowed her eyes and studied him for a moment.

"Not the truth. I can see it in your face."

John smiled again.

"I don't even know why I bother trying to lie to you. You always see it in the end."

Helen rested her chin on her hand.

"You found it and tried to steal it, didn't you?"

"I needed it Helen. Please do not judge me"

Helen shrugged.

"All things considered, I'm not really in a person to do so, am I?"

John cocked his eyebrow at her.

"So you say. And yet, I always feel like I am in a courtroom with you. You sitting in the judges seat, the jury chairs and on the opposing council. Just you"

Helen smiled slightly.

"Scary concept."

"Yet surprisingly pleasant at the same time"

John stood again and moved closer to Helen's desk.

"I still failed. The stone was destroyed. The man who also wanted it, concluded that it was better to destroy it then risk losing it. So there is no need to concern yourself any longer with that matter"

"John, sit back down"

John scowled before moving back to the seat and sinking into the cushions. Helen stood and moved around the desk, going to the cupboard and removing the first aid kit that she stored there. She placed it on the ground beside him before heading back to her desk. She filled a plastic container with hot water from her teapot and went to kneel before him. She kept her eyes down as she dampened a cloth in the water and started clearing the blood from his skin. She began at his neck, wiping the skin gently. She then moved to his chest, being as gentle as she could as she wiped off the fresh blood and the clotted mess that decorated the wounds. Her mouth went dry as she heard him breath sharply through his teeth, keeping himself still despite of it.

"You're lucky he didn't hurt you. I mean, really hurt you. I think you may need some stitches."

"Lucky I came to the right woman, isn't it?"

Helen looked up at him, her eyes locking with his.

"You shouldn't do that John"

"What?"

"Put yourself into these kinds of situations."

"I needed the stone. I failed, end of the story"

Helen shook her head as she used another cloth to dry the skin.

"No it's not, it never is. We both know that"

Helen stood again and indicated at his wounds.

"We really need to get those stitched up"

John nodded and stood, Helen following suit. He kept pace with her as she left the office and headed to the medical room. Once there, he sat on one of the beds and waited as she gathered together the equipment she needed to stitch his wounds. She prepared a syringe and quickly swiped the inside of his arm with alcohol before slipping it into his vein. It was just a basic mix of antibiotics and though she was fairly certain that he didn't need it, she still followed basic precautions.

"So are you going to tell me how much worse off the other man is?"

John smiled down at her.

"He's fine. I wasn't happy but he's alive."

"Good"

Helen let the conversation falter as she started to stitch his wounds. He only flinched a couple of times but otherwise remained perfectly still. She ignored their proximity to each other, concentrating on the rhythm of her breathing and keeping her hands steady. She paused after she had repaired the wounds on his chest.

"It may be easier if you lay on the bed rather then sit."

John nodded and swung his legs onto the bed. She went back to work, his skin still cool under her hands.

"Is it normal for you to be so cold?"

John chuckled lightly.

"I'm half naked Helen. Clothes help to keep people warm. You know that right?"

Helen rolled her eyes at him.

"You were cold before you took your clothes off"

"I don't know Helen. You tell me, was I warm the last time you touched me without my clothes on?"

Helen swallowed heavily and pushed aside the flustered feeling that was moving rapidly over her. She cleared her throat and continued her stitching.

"No answer, huh?"

"I'm not going to give you the pleasure of a response."

"You don't need to. That shade of red suits you by the way"

Helen felt the heat deepen on her cheeks.

"Please stop talking. I need to concentrate"

She felt his chuckle more then heard it, the rumbling shifting beneath her fingers. A few minutes later, her work done, she kept her eyes down as she started cleaning up the mess. She heard John shift on the bed and her body was instantly aware when he was closer to her. Within seconds, his breath was stirring her hair and she could smell him, the blood, the alcohol and the beautiful scent that was all John Druitt.

"I did it for you. I did it for us"

Helen closed her eyes and tried to control her pounding heart.

"There is no us"

John's fingers trailed down the bare skin of her arm, raising goose pimples on her skin and making her mouth go dry.

"There has always been us. That was the way it was, us against the rest of the world."

"Not anymore John. Now it's me against you"

John's handed shifted again, his hand stopping to cup her elbow gently.

"I wish you would stop thinking that way Helen."

Helen turned to face him and swallowed heavily. He was too close. They were almost chest to chest. She wanted to step back but she had nowhere to go. For all intents and purposes, he had her trapped.

"It's the only way I can think. It's the safest way for me to think"

John's hand travelled further up her arm, pausing at her shoulder before his hand came to rest on her cheek. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath, determined that he would not get the better of her again. She hated that he had that power, that she had given him that power so willingly.

"Look at me Helen"

She sighed and with effort opened her eyes, knowing that the moment she looked into his, the battle would be lost. He knew it and so did she. Her eyes locked with his and she could feel herself falling all over again. It was a horrible feeling. Like sliding off a cliff without a parachute. His fingers gently traced the dips and curves of her face, his cool skin burning against hers.

"Everything I do - "

"Has selfish intentions"

John sighed and Helen could hear the sadness in the action. He would never know just how desperately she wished that things were different. How she wished that the actions that they had taken as young and arrogant scientists had never concluded in this. He would never know that he was it for her. That every man that she had been with was unconsciously measured against him. And that every man failed to make her feel like he did. Pulling out his failure's and waving them like a white flag was her last defence and she had had far too much practice.

"How is it selfish to want something better for us?"

"We've had this discussion. And I'm sick and tired of repeating myself"

John's hand moved again, lowering to come and rest on her throat before moving again, deliciously grazing her collarbone. She shivered and watched his face as he took in the reaction to his touch. He smiled gently at her, his face coming even closer to hers. His breath mingled with her own.

"I'm too stubborn to let it go. To let you go"

"It's an obsession John. One that you need to get over."

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her temple, his voice low and soft in her ear.

"How does one get over the love of their life? If you can tell me that, then I shall leave you alone."

She swallowed heavily.

"You simply move forward"

"Or push everything into a corner and pretend it does not exist. Much like you have. I know the truth Helen, it's written on your face, written on everything you do."

Helen said nothing as he kissed her cheek and moved away from her again, his face drinking in hers, wanting, waiting a reaction. She still said nothing. She wasn't going to correct him. They had had this argument far too many times before and she found that silence was the best way to play. She could not reveal anything in not speaking. She didn't want to react when he lowered his face to hers. He didn't pause, just brushed his lips to hers before deepening the kiss. She tried to force her body to remain still, tried to pretend that she didn't want that touch. But she did. Her mind protested as her lips started to move with his in a familiar dance. She wanted to remember to stop, to remember what hurt this action would bring but all thoughts fell from her mind and her body responded in the same moment as her lips did, pressing into John's. Only when the need to breath pushed her back into cold reality did she pull away from him. She tried to catch her breath, to steady her heart that was beating an impossibly hard rhythm.

"John"

John smiled slightly at her. He raised his hand again and traced her lips with his thumb, leaning forward and placing another brief kiss on her lips.

"I know."

He pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Helen sighed and leaned into him, her ear pressed to his chest, his heart humming beneath her ear.

"I know"

She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head before he stepped back. He smiled sadly at her and in a blink, he was gone. It took her a moment to regain her senses before she moved back to her office on shaky legs. These encounters with John were becoming all too familiar and at some point, he would catch her at a moment where she would fail to fight. She also knew that if she looked at in regards to any other scientific formula, the numbers were stacked against her. She sunk into the seat in front of the fire, staring at his empty scotch glass that still sat on the table, her body still humming from his touch, her lips still burning from his kiss. It was the same old wound, committed in the same old battle. What annoyed Helen was that she didn't know who would win this war.


End file.
